A Continuum Continuation
by Bobbie23
Summary: "You can only ask for retirement so many times before the President asks you why," he quips. "That's the second draft. You should've read the first."


**A/N - Set after Continuum, but no real spoilers. Oh, how I wanted to see that lunch scene. Just a quick fluff piece, hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer – I don't own anything, just borrowing. **

A Continuum Continuation

Jack glances at the table to check the team playing nice for the time being. Vala, legs tucked under her on the booth's bench, leads the conversation. Jack can't hear what she's saying. Judging by the hand gestures and the way she bumps Daniel's shoulder playfully it's a provocative tale to draw the younger man into arguing with her. It doesn't take much for the archaeologist to start firing zingers back, fuelling their verbal sparring.

On the other side of Daniel, Mitchell watches them with barely veiled, practised boredom. Teal'c sits beside him with an amused raised eyebrow at their antics. They're enjoying themselves. More importantly, they're preoccupied.

There's a tug at his heart. Feeling so far removed from field teams, he misses the dynamic. He feels it fleetingly when he has the rare opportunity to drop in on them at the base or on a team night. They've drifted yet their connection as a team remains. They still complement each other spread across the wider program except they don't share the experience as they used to. As much as Jack hates to admit it, he knows they are all in the right places. He's just grateful Mitchell and Vala have their backs when he and Sam can't. It's a begrudging compromise on his grumpier days.

Just like his lunch concession before he whisks Sam away to someplace private. He's waiting for her nod. He knows she wants to see the guys - they've missed her too if their badgering is anything to go by - yet can't help the jolt inside of him as she stands beside him at the bar. Her command position has taught her the one lesson Jack wanted to save her. She understands the distance and exhaustion that comes with acting like it doesn't affect them.

He casts a glance at her. Her lithe form highlighted by the skinny jeans and casual tee under her leather jacket is more disarming than the combat gear she donned for the extraction ceremony. Her eyes drift up from the menu when she senses his gaze on her. She offers him half a smile and searches his face. Her eyebrow twitches, questioning.

He brushes his hand against hers on the bar.

He's okay. He's missed her.

It's difficult to maintain a relationship based on continually traded emails. Video calls are monitored and were reserved for work.

Her finger trails down his thumb. She's missed him too.

They're not prone to public displays. Discretion isn't a compromise for them. They're private people. Even if they had extrovert personalities, they've spent too many years having too many eyes on them to allow themselves the luxury of indulging in public. But it'd be nice to hold her hand or be able to walk a fraction closer without people calling them on it or demanding an investigation into a breach of regs.

Not that it'd matter to the guys, they know. The shift in their relationship is an open secret. Hell, he's pretty sure Vala knows if the coy, teasing looks she occasionally shoots him are anything to go by. Plus, she's Vala. It's as if she has a sixth sense for this kind of thing.

Mitchell is the wildcard of the group. He's a good guy, dedicated to his team. He impressed Jack with his determination after the crash in Antarctica, and since when he's brought SG-1 home. They haven't spent too much time together but Jack can understand why Mitchell is too mindful when in Jack's presence. Mitchell has never given them an odd look or inferred anything. As much as Jack hates it, the fact is he and Sam have been rumour mill fodder for years. Jack doesn't know if the younger man _knows. _Even in his head, that sounds wrong.

Smiles and banter will have to suffice till they're alone, preferably with a lock on the door and cell phones off for at least a few hours if not days. She has, after all, spent the last twelve months in another galaxy. Their reunion has been on his mind since she received her orders. He's thought of her every time he's glanced at a calendar, every time someone mentioned Atlantis.

Speaking of, "Woolsey's an idiot," Jack announces without preamble.

That draws Sam's attention from the menu. She gives him a wry smile and a soft sigh. She hasn't had time to vent. Not that Jack thinks she will. "It wasn't just his decision."

"Well, they're all idiots."

It's true. Jack had been in the meeting when Woolsey demanded the reinstatement of civilian control of Atlantis. The poor bastard hadn't seen it coming. He'd never volunteer himself for an extended stay off-world, let alone another galaxy.

At the end of his rhetoric, Woolsey was told to pack his bags. Jack clearly remembers the slack expression Woolsey wore as he tried to weasel out of the assignment. With Woolsey's fate decided, Jack let the rest of meeting fade into the background. Sam was coming home.

She did a good job giving the IOA the perfect reason to retake control. They admitted it themselves along with various members submitting recommendation letters for her file.

He sighs. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Sam shrugs. "It just feels like I left things unfinished."

"That wasn't your call," Jack reminds her. He understands the responsibility she feels to the people there. She will hate feeling like she abandoned them.

"I know," she breathes out. "I was just starting to settle in." Her nose twitches self-consciously. "You know, I never thought I'd be homesick with everything to do there," Sam admits.

It's a simple statement which reveals so much more, a sucker punch to his gut. He's immediately reminded she probably won't be staying for long. Returning to the SGC is a brief stop-gap for her. She won't be staying. Potential assignments are crying out for her attention. She can be TAD to SG-1, except it won't stick. It's a step backwards in her career to return permanently. She's proved herself ready for other leadership roles; ones she's been moulded for since the inception of the SGC. Unfortunately, he knows none of those positions will be on Earth. Decisions will be made and Landry will give her the new orders once she returns from leave.

"You were missed here too," Jack tells her gently. If her head tilt is anything to go by, she finds this admission endearing. There's a coy spark in her eyes as she beams at him. She moves a fraction closer and his body gears up for testing their public boundaries. They're in sync as they glance over her shoulder. Their friends are still focused on themselves.

"Well, I'm home now," Sam assures him, closing the last few inches.

"Welcome home," he whispers against her lips. They part far too quickly to satisfy either of them.

The bartender finally manages to free himself to take their order, explaining they have two people out sick. Sam and Jack take turns rattling off the round for the table. The bartender sets about preparing the drinks and says a waiter will take their food order at the table as soon as possible.

As they wait for the tray that's set before them to be filled, Jack reaches into his pocket for the envelope he stashed there. "Look, I, uh, did something before I knew you were coming home." He hands her the envelope, gesturing awkwardly at it for her to open it before he can second guess himself. "I know our plan was to wait but I got impatient."

She answers him with a look which is downright teasing. He puffs out his chest, he's renowned for his patience. She rolls her eyes and unfolds the letter, scanning the page as he watches. It takes everything for him to stay still. His fingers itch to fidget. Retiring and telling her could have waited. He should've discussed it with Sam. He didn't mean to get pissed and go off half-cocked. He's tired of dealing with politicians and watching his manners when they're provoking him.

Her eyes track down the page twice before she looks up at him. He tries to catalogue everything he can see in her wide eyes; shock, fear, doubt. Hope.

"You gave this to the President?"

"Well, yeah." He decides to play along to see her reaction. She flushes and rereads the letter. It's cute. "You can only ask for retirement so many times before the President asks you why," he quips. "That's the second draft. You should've read the first."

She raises an eyebrow at him. He hasn't answered her. She doesn't know if she should expect an inquiry when she returns to base. He's been retained as a consultant but it won't be anything like he's doing now.

"The third and final version was heavily edited," Jack caves. The President _did_ ask but Sam doesn't need to know that. Actually, the President said Jack had been dragging his heels for far too long. He officially retired as of leaving base less than an hour ago. He's thrown the idea around for years but neither of them has been ready till now. He's not sure she is. It's so close to coming home but it's done. He never wanted it to be perceived as a gesture. She never wanted to be the reason he left. He's leaving to protect the last sliver of his sanity.

"Jack, you're retired," she sighs, folding the paper she slips it into her pocket. He loves hearing her say his name. She tilts her head to the side, a smile slowly growing across her face. Pacified that he hasn't submitted this version to the President she steps into his space. Her hand cups his cheek gently. "Are you sure about this?"

"More than anything."

He lets her capture his lips with a longing instilled by their year apart. The kiss is still chaste, sweet and nothing like how he wanted to greet her with but it will do. Then she winds her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. Jack holds on to her, one hand sliding around her waist as the other cups her cheek. She's pressed against him, familiar, pliant and welcoming. Their kiss is soft and deliberately languid. Skirting promises of continuing in private, Jack pulls back while keeping hold of her.

"Welcome home," he repeats. "Do you think they'll notice if we skip lunch?" He asks softly, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Cam will lead a search party if we do," Sam hums in a way which is both soft and throaty and utterly agreeable. Damn, he loves her. "Teal'c enjoys watching Vala torture Daniel too much to help him." Her hand slides down his chest with a not so covert caress. Two fingers tap his heart. "But it has been a _very_ long year."

"So, later?" Jack grins.

"Later," Sam confirms with a playful smile of her own.

He dips his head for one last quick peck of her lips before releasing her.

888

"When did _that_ happen?" Cam asks as he spies Sam and O'Neill wrapped around each other. He turns to the rest of his team.

Jackson suddenly finds his place setting fascinating while Teal'c offers him nothing. Vala looks like a predator about to pounce on its' prey. He's the prey.

"Pay up boys, I told you he didn't know," she laughs while nudging Jackson's shoulder.

Jackson winces as he lifts his head and clears his throat. "Uh, yeah about that," he starts.

"Don't be a sore loser. A bet is a bet," Vala reminds him. "Mitchell didn't know that Sam and Mr Jack over there are," she gestures vaguely in their direction with an action Cam refuses to acknowledge.

"You all knew?" He doesn't care that Sam and O'Neill are together. If they're happy, he's happy. It's not like they've advertised themselves. But his team knew something he had no clue about. He's offended.

"I don't know how you didn't," Vala blithely comments.

"Well, we only bet against you that Cam knew so you wouldn't tell him," Jackson deadpans.

**A/N – Any thoughts?**


End file.
